


the thing about star stuff

by sesquidpedalian



Series: solanaceae [2]
Category: Dr. STONE (Anime)
Genre: Chrome is there but he doesn't do anything, Ducks, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Pet Names, Platonic Relationships, Rated teen for swearing, Set after episode 23, Stargazing, senku and gen refuse to admit that they care about each other, senku says like one curse word, they also lie to each other at least three times in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesquidpedalian/pseuds/sesquidpedalian
Summary: Senku lives wholly in the present. He dwells in the now and the next. The future is a malleable thing, his to shape, his to make. The past, however, is what wakes him up at night with tears in his eyes and an irreparable ache in his chest.
Relationships: Asagiri Gen & Ishigami Senkuu
Series: solanaceae [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743325
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	the thing about star stuff

**Author's Note:**

> and now for my next trick, i will be turning senku into a duck

Senku wakes up alone. It is dark out, much darker than what he remembers of electric city lights, but when he sits up properly, he sees the Milky Way stretched in a brilliant glittering band of light above him, the full moon shining enormous and bright. Someone, it seems, has draped him in a blanket.

Looking at the stars is as exhilarating as ever, but it also brings with it the smallest twinge of something Senku decides isn’t really worth examining too closely. He wipes tears out of his eyes. He isn’t getting back to sleep for a while, if the irrational grief and longing stirring under his sternum is any indication. He gets to his feet, shedding the heavy blanket in a rumpled puddle on the floor.

On the lower floor of the observatory, Gen and Chrome are fast asleep. Senku pushes the door open so he can watch the sky from here. It’ll be easier and faster to get to the lab from this floor if he has an idea that needs acting on. 

Chrome’s obnoxious snoring fills the room. Senku doesn’t even have to turn his head to know exactly where his apprentice—rapidly growing out of that title now, sidling dangerously near to what some might call a close friend—is passed out.

“Senku, dear…” a soft voice croons.

“Hey,” he says without turning around. “Thanks for the blanket.”

“You think I did that?” Gen smirks, coming to settle beside Senku in front of the doorway. “Please, darling, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Senku scoffs, keeping his voice low. “That reputation was shattered the moment you decided to build an observatory for my birthday.”

Gen doesn't reply to that.

“Having a telescope is pretty useful, though. I might even say I’ve developed some fondness for you too, if I happened to be a fucking sap.”

Gen smiles serenely. “Of course. And you're welcome.”

The moon looms over them. Its light is a paltry substitute for the full brightness of the sun, but it’s enough to set the snow glimmering. It’s getting colder every day.

“I’m going for a walk.” Senku hops to his feet, shivers as he’s hit by a breath of icy wind.

“I’ll come along.” Gen stands with a soft swish of fabric.

They leave Chrome’s snoring behind them as they climb down the ladder into a thin layer of snow that fell the previous night.

“Where are we going this fine night, my dear?”

Senku waves an idle hand. “Just walking. I have some plans I want to think on, and exercise is scientifically proven to be conducive to greater cognition.”

“...Right.”

They make it to the edge of the clearing. Gen peers up at the snow-laden trees. “Come to think of it,” he says, “where does dear Kohaku sleep? I’ve never seen where she goes at night.”

Senku shrugs easily. “I haven’t either. She likes being up in the trees, but it’s too cold for that now.” He offered her a place in the observatory once, when the temperatures started dipping low enough to make frostbite a threat, but she made a face of disgust, muttered something about ‘sleep with _Chrome_?’, and flatly refused.

Gen, having fallen behind to cast one last look at the white-coated trees and the Science Kingdom’s flag, scurries to catch up.

“So…” he starts.

“Did I wake you up, mentalist?”

Gen’s steps falter for a second. Then, a sigh. “No. I couldn't sleep anyway. Why were you up, Senku dear?”

“Same as you—couldn't sleep.” They pass the hut Suika usually spends her nights in. Senku spares it a glance, moves on before Gen can pick up on any sentimentality.

“What are your plans?” Gen asks, voice growing as soft and serious as it ever gets.

“Patience, mentalist. I'm still thinking.” Senku slows, stops. He looks up at the sky again, can’t help himself. Maybe it’s the lateness of the hour, or maybe it’s the reminder that this whole village is a gift thousands of years in the making, or maybe it’s that Senku loves this place and these people ( _his_ people) so fiercely he could be ready to _die_ for them—

Whatever it is, there are tears welling in his eyes again. 

Tomorrow and yesterday are human constructs. No other species tracks minutes, hours, days like humans do. The past is gone, the future isn’t real yet, but even though the present is all Senku has to work with, the endless yawning span of distant time calls to him in a painfully familiar voice. Above him and Gen, the moon is huge. It looks like, if he just reached up, just a little higher, he could touch it.

It’s an illusion. The moon isn’t anywhere near within reach for him. Not yet. 384,400 kilometres.

Gen stands silently at his side. Their shoulders almost brush. 

“Tell me what you dream of,” Gen says abruptly.

Senku frowns, wiping his eyes. No point hiding that now. “As in dreams when I sleep, or what I hope for in the future?” 

Gen hums thoughtfully. “When you sleep.”

“What’s with you, mentalist? Gonna do dream interpretation on me?”

“C’mon,” Gen coos, nudging Senku teasingly. “Just tell me, and I’ll tell you some of mine.”

Senku narrows his eyes. Gen looks back, steady and smug. Something in Senku settles as he understands. 

“Okay, how’s this: I dreamt once that I turned into a giant duck and flew into a tree.”

Gen doesn’t even bat an eye. “What kind of duck?” 

The first thing that comes to mind: “Mallard. _Anas platyrhynchos_.”

Gen tilts his head to one side. “Have you seen mallard ducks in real life before, dear?”

“Nah. I read a couple books about the Great Lakes ecosystems in North America when I was little. You know, their ducklings are capable of swimming from the moment they hatch.”

“Interesting…” Gen isn’t trying all that hard to look interested. “What kind of tree did you fly into?”

Senku’s breaths are coming out slow and even again. He says, “Nope. No more details until I hear one of your dreams.” 

“Ah, you drive a hard bargain, dear Senku.” Gen taps gently, twice, on Senku’s forearm, and starts walking to the part of the village Ruri lives in. Senku follows, barely tamping down the urge to grab Gen’s sleeve, to tug him back to his side. The magician keeps talking, gesticulating cheerfully as he goes: “It’s funny you mention ducks—I had a dream about them too. I lived on a duck farm, and the ducks were all flying away, and my parents were yelling at me to go catch the ducks except I couldn’t fly, so the ducks all flew into the sun and burned up.”

“No way they were all that dumb. Every single duck?” Senku asks, playing along because there’s nothing else to do.

“Well, one of them lived. It did quite well for itself, in fact. Got all nice and fat on breadcrumbs, had the time of its life swimming circles in the pond. It was a pretty good duck.” Gen nods slowly. “Many people were quite fond of it.”

Senku kicks a stone along the path. “Breadcrumbs aren’t actually good for them. If you really want a healthy duck, you have to throw things like cracked corn and wheat at it. That duck of yours is going to die of malnutrition.”

Gen shrugs one shoulder dismissively. “Whatever, maybe it was a magic duck that didn’t know any better. Now you have to tell me what kind of tree you flew into.”

Senku chuckles, and from the flicker of delight that shows on Gen’s face, this is exactly where the two of them are meant to be. 

“Birch, I think. Some of the bark was peeling off—that was important as hell in the dream, but I can’t remember why.” Senku makes a show of thinking hard, stroking his chin and pulling silly faces, which causes Gen to laugh in turn.

They arrive at the edge of the village, looking out over the lake. The water is dark and treacherous, but the stars... Senku points at a constellation. “Cygnus,” he murmurs.

“The swan?” Gen asks.

“Yeah.” He points to another. “Leo.” Another. “Pegasus.” Another. “Cassiopeia.” Senku lets his arm drop, lets the night sky fill his vision. “We’re going to make it to space again. Humanity walked among those constellations once, and we’re going to do it again.” He casts a sideways look at Gen, smiles the smile that bares his canines and makes people call him creepy. “It’s going to be exhilarating.”

This time, Gen steps close enough that their shoulders do touch. “You know, dear Senku, I heard someone say once that we’re already among the stars. Even here on the ground, technically, we’re surrounded by outer space on all sides. I know you still want to go to space, because you’re insane, and you probably will find a way, because you’re _insane_ , but we’ve already walked among the stars. We’re doing it right now.” Gen turns, making a sweeping gesture that encompasses the whole village. “We’re all made of star stuff, after all.”

Senku stares up at the moon, at the stars, at the whole universe, all of time and space, spiralling out around this here and now. _Star stuff._

Then he tilts his head as far back as it’ll go and laughs, forgetting for half a second the sleeping villagers. “We’re so goddamn cheesy.”

Gen smiles, and it reaches all the way to the crinkling corners of his eyes. “It’s kind of fun to be a little cheesy sometimes, no?”

For a while, there is only the soft splash of waves rolling in, the glowing reflection of the moon, the pinprick brilliance of the twinkling stars. There is only the two of them, silent and calm. Time winks away.

Eventually, Senku takes a deep breath of sharp winter air, and sighs. “We should go back and get some rest. There’s still tons of work to do tomorrow.” He slaps Gen on the back before starting back along the bridge to the main village. “You idiot, following me all the way out here. Old Man Kaseki is gonna work you to death in the morning, and you wasted precious sleeping hours _stargazing_.”

Gen sticks doggedly to his side. “Look who’s talking, my dear,” he sneers playfully. “Ah, but you’re right. We really should sleep. Good night, Mister Moon,” Gen calls in the general direction of the sky. He waves at the giant, improbable chunk of rock floating above them, beaming unabashedly. Senku surprises himself with his own laughter.

When they get back to the hut, Senku finds he still hasn’t come up with any new science ideas. The moon remains approximately 384,400 kilometres away, the stars even further. But Gen and Chrome are right there, less than two metres from him no matter where he stands in the room. Senku brings the heavy blanket down from the observatory’s upper floor, and falls asleep to the steady, inescapable sound of his friends’ breathing.


End file.
